how to hold you (without shaking)
by potidaea
Summary: She knows one thing: if The Luthors find out about her relationship with Kara, Lena will lose everything - except Kara. (AU: No Powers/Canon Divergence)
1. Chapter 1

It was time. She knew it was. They'd been sleeping together for months. It was more than that, though. She knew there was something real between them, even if they hadn't verbalized it just yet. _I'll do it tonight_, Kara thought. In spite of her determination, she knew she wouldn't. She knew that as soon as she opened the door to the scent of pizza and the sight of Lena's coy grin, she'd fold.

She folded as easily as the extra cheesy slices from Mario's they scarfed down while a movie played in the background. That night was Lena's pick: _Rachel Getting Married_. Kara wasn't surprised. Lena always chose something intense and cerebral with a female lead. The only exception was the night they watched _Moonlight_, when Lena said, "I've been meaning to watch this since it came out," and then giggled at her unintentional pun - already slightly tipsy.

They settled into the couch, pizza in hand. Most nights they rarely made it past the first half hour of their chosen entertainment - too distracted by wandering hands to focus on anything else - but tonight was different. Kara was content to simply sit snug against the brunette's side, drinking in every last glance.

Soon, the movie was nearly two-thirds finished, as was the pizza. Their plates were left on the coffee table, littered with crumbs and grease.

Anne Hathaway spoke softly in the background as Lena balked. "Was everyone in 2008 blind or are we just supposed to ignore that no one at this traditional Indian wedding is Indian?"

Kara smiled fondly at the exasperated woman. "Both?" She guessed, trailing her eyes over the brunette's profile. _So beautiful._

Lena caught her gaze, blushing self-consciously. "What?"

"Nothing," Kara smiled.

"What? Do I have sauce?" She wiped at her cheek, pulling back a clean palm.

"No, you're fine," The blonde grabbed a pale wrist, intertwining their fingers as she pulled the hand into her lap. "It's just…" She surged forward, pulling the businesswoman into a chaste kiss. "You're cute," she whispered as her head rested against the brunette's own.

Lena smiled bashfully in response, biting her lower lip before kissing the other woman again. This time, less reserved. It was near-bruising with need. A switch had been flipped and there was no going back. Sighing into the kiss, Kara repositioned herself to straddle the brunette with ease. Her hands gripped the back of the couch, pinning Lena in place as their lips moved languidly, smearing red lipstick. Kara's tongue toyed at the brunette's soft lower lip as she felt needy hands grip her hips, pulling her impossibly close.

Kara's nails dug into the back of the couch as Lena's teeth tugged at her lower lip. Her hips instinctively rolled forward, seeking contact.

The brunette smirked, one eyebrow perfectly arched. "Eager?"

"Shut up," she mumbled against still-cocked lips, muffling any further response with a kiss. It didn't take long before Lena eased her hands off the blonde's hips, snaking them over heaving breasts, down to the clasp of her jeans.

As much pleasure she took in teasing Kara, it was that much sweeter giving in. Her fingers met slick heat and she groaned, recalling the blonde's earlier text message. _I'm always wet around you._ The blonde sighed into her ear. "Told you," she whispered before nipping at the pale skin.

Lena bit her lip as she rubbed gentle circles against Kara's clitoris. Her hips canted, attempting to find greater pressure. She needed more. It was a tight fit, but Lena tucked her hand further into the front of Kara's jeans, dipping one finger right inside where Kara needed it most.

"Fuck, Lena," she moaned. Ripping her t-shirt off above her head, she pushed one of her lover's unoccupied hands to her still-clothed breast. Her hips ground steadily onto the finger probing at her core, bouncing on her knees.

Lena watched in awe as the woman's muscular figure moved with purpose above her. With each movement - every pass of Kara's clitoris against her palm, every thrust of her hand to meet rolling hips - she felt her own arousal grow. "Take your pants off."

Kara nodded blissfully, allowing her partner a moment to remove herself. Lena met her gaze, sucking the arousal-soaked finger into her mouth. At the sight of the brunette drinking in her wetness, Kara stumbled off of her lap - quickly kicking off her pants and underwear. She knew what was coming, and _god_, did she want it.

Laying back on the couch, she spread her legs lazily as Lena crawled forward in-between them. The brunette watched the steady rise and fall of Kara's chest stutter as she placed two nips on her inner thighs before tasting the pooling wetness at her core.

Kara moaned at the sensation of Lena's tongue trailing between her folds, finally settling on her clit. She sucked the bundle of nerves in-between her lips and the reporter's fingers immediately pressed at the back of Lena's head, nails scraping gently…urging her on. She could feel the woman grinning against her core, but didn't care as long as her tongue _didn't stop_. "Inside," she begged. "Fingers." She was breathless.

Lena slid two fingers in with ease, thrusting them in and out of wet heat. Kara's hips moved on their own volition, meeting Lena's thrusts. It wasn't long before she felt the blonde's muscles begin to contract around her fingers. Kara's moans grew louder, more unhinged…coming beautifully undone under Lena's skilled body.

After a moment, she lifted her head to look at the brunette. Sated. "Hi," she sighed with glazed eyes and a grin. "C'mere."

With a smile, Lena placed a gentle kiss to a tanned abdomen. She extracted herself, not particularly mindful of her dress anymore as she laid across the blonde. Glancing over at the television, she noticed the credits had just started. She laughed, "We missed the end."

"Rachel got married," Kara explained.

Lena rolled her eyes, but smiled adoringly as she captured the blonde's lips in a chaste kiss. Kara could taste herself on the other woman's lips. Breaking the kiss, Lena placed her head on Kara's chest, resting silently for a few long moments as the blonde trailed her hands in mindless patterns across her back.

"So, I've been thinking…" Kara started.

Lena hummed in response.

"Well, game night is coming up and maybe you'd go? As my girlfriend?" She suggested hopefully.

Lena turned her head to look directly at the other woman. "Kara…you know how I feel about you." And she did, or at least she thought she did. Right up until Lena said those words like _that_. "I just…I can't. You know that."

From day one she knew Lena wasn't out, couldn't be out. That if her family ever found out she would lose her job, her inheritance, her entire way of life. So, Kara got it. Maybe she didn't _completely_ understand it - she was an underpaid reporter who had been openly bisexual since high school - but she knew the fear that drove it. She remembered the tricks her mind played on her before she came out to Eliza and Jeremiah and she knew that for Lena there was no illusion. It was utterly and devastatingly real.

"I know," she grimaced. "I'm not saying we announce it to the world, but my sister doesn't even know." Lena looked thoughtful as Kara continued, vulnerable but jovial. Teasing, as she tickled the brunette's side. "How do you feel about me?"

"Hey!" With a squeal the businesswoman squirmed away. When her laughter calmed, she spoke. Kara was happy to see the worry washed from her face. Her eyes were soft. "I think you're beautiful and utterly frustrating and kind and sexy and an absolute dork. I really like you, Kara Danvers."

When Lena moved to place a soothing kiss against her breast, just above her heart, Kara spoke. "Lena, I hate to break it to you, but I think you _are_ my girlfriend."

Lena moved for rebuttal, but cut herself off with a sigh as she processed her own words. Kara was right. Resting her forehead against the blonde's chest, she shrugged. _What's the point?_

"Look, nothing has to change, really. We've been together for months. There's no one else." She lifted Lena's chin to meet anxious green eyes. "It's just a word at the end of the day, but it _is_ one I'd like to use. We don't even have to use it outside of this apartment. This is the girlfriend couch, over there is the girlfriend kitchen…the girlfriend _bedroom_." The last one was a definite suggestion.

Lena laughed at Kara's antics, but deeply appreciated the effort. Who was she kidding? The past four months were the happiest she had been in years. She'd be a fool to say no. "You're right."

Kara smiled, wrapping her arms around her _girlfriend_ in a warm embrace, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. The mood in the room had shifted from their earlier activities and the blonde was unsure if Lena wanted to resume. Instead, she asked, "Do you want to watch the rest of the movie?"

Lena just nestled her face further into Kara's chest, content. _Later_.


	2. Chapter 2

Together, they decided that they would tell Alex over dinner at Kara's apartment the next week. Kara did her best to bring it up casually with Alex that morning, _"Hey, why don't you come over for dinner tonight? I haven't seen you in ages. Lena was gonna come over anyway."_ Lena spent her day flitting between heart-stopping panic and excitement behind her desk at Luthor Corp. She was meant to be drafting a proposal to send on to her brother and the rest of the department heads for final approval, but her mind wouldn't stop.

In an utterly irrational panic, she feared Lex would just _know_. That if she simply forwarded the document in a blank email, signed with her default signature, he would be able to tell that something had changed. Sure, she had been with Kara for months - but this was different. _She_ was different and it was official now.

The moment her mother's gaudy limo picked her up from boarding school in Vermont, only to drive her to a nearly identical building in the middle of Connecticut, played in her mind. The only difference was the cross etched into the stone. Lillian didn't speak for most of the five hour ride, busy on conference calls, but she looked up once to say: "Now you've gotten that out of your system, I hope you realize a Luthor doesn't deviate. And if you _are_," her eyes were ice, "a deviant, that is…well, you aren't a Luthor." Lena nodded like she understood, like she wasn't terrified and barely fifteen. "I should have never sent you to that all-girls school."

She'd been caught skinny dipping in the pool with her roommate after hours. They didn't do anything, but she desperately wanted to…and the whole school knew it. In Connecticut she was more careful; she didn't get caught. The fear didn't stop tingling from the pads of her feet to the base of her skull, though.

That was ten years ago now. Lena was an adult. She had her own apartment, her own life. Still, it took little pressure to break the fragile hold she had on it. Her job, her finances, any sense of stability - it was all tied to her family and the thought of coming out put a laser focus on the fault lines that could lay waste to her life.

Her leg bounced erratically as she glanced at her phone, working at her desktop between the anxious texts she sent Kara.

_Lena [8:31AM]: I'll see you later, girlfriend. _

(At the start of the day, she was j_ust fine, thank you_.)

_Lena [10:08AM]: Should I change after work?_

(The worry started to hit and _fuck, what if I make a bad first impression?_ It took Lena five minutes and a panic attack to remember she had, in fact, met Alex Danvers before.)

_Lena [1:23PM]: Are you sure this is a good idea?_

_Lena [1:30PM]: She's a lesbian. I don't know why I'm so are sure she's a lesbian, though?_

(She had, admittedly, had one too many cups of coffee after ten too many stressful emails.)

_Lena [3:07PM]: What are we making for dinner? I want ramen. Also, a drink._

(God, did she need a drink.)

When five-o'clock finally rolled around, Lena was still answering emails and putting the final touches on her proposal draft titled _Acquisition Of Renewable Resources For Energy, FY2019-20_. If approved, she could begin to seek funding for alternative energy research. If not, she'd have to start all over again.

Her shoulders were stiff with stress and her neck ached as the tension spread. Sighing, Lena rubbed at the sore muscles with very little hope of relief. She knew it wouldn't ease until after dinner, which - based on her current pace - wouldn't be for another hour, at least.

She sent a quick text to Kara.

_Lena [5:03PM]: Work is hell. Running late, is 6:30/7 okay?_

_Kara [5:05PM]: Yeah, of course. Alex and I will just catch up. Take a break if you need to._

Lena smiled fondly at her girlfriend's reply, sending a heart emoji back before she returned to the exhausting document on her computer monitor.

—

On the other side of the city, Kara grinned at her phone before sliding it back into her pocket. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

Alex, who had arrived at her apartment not long ago, sat across from her. She was in the middle of a story about her latest case at the FBI when Lena texted. "Was that Lena?"

"Yeah, she's running late. At least another hour, maybe two," Kara summarized.

"Enough time for mid-2000s classic hit film Sleepover?" Alex grinned.

"Uh, yeah!" Kara grabbed for the remote, quickly searching for the movie.

Soon they were both lost in the world of their shared childhood crush, Alexa Vega, and debating whether or not Jane Lynch could ever be believably straight. As the credits rolled, Kara glanced at her watch. "Shit, I gotta start cooking."

"Cooking? Since when does Kara Danvers cook?" The older sister balked.

"I cook!" The blonde protested. "I just don't cook for you."

Alex's eyes lit up. "Lena? You're cooking for Lena!" When Kara didn't respond, her head buried in the fridge, the agent continued on. "A straight girl, Kara?" She questioned, cautioning.

"Do you want dinner, or not?" Was all Kara said.

"I don't like this," Alex huffed before settling back on the couch as Kara shuffled around the kitchen, beginning to prepare the ingredients she purchased on her way home. As she chopped the vegetables, she was beginning to realize just how nervous she was - if not for herself, for Lena. Sure, she had introduced past partners to Alex before, but never like this. The stakes were never so high. And Lena…she couldn't begin to imagine the pressure she was under. Kara trusted Alex with her life and then some, but this was overwhelming - even for them.

Adding stock to a large pot, she left it to boil with various vegetables she knew Lena would like. Then, chopped chicken was added to a pan to sauté. There was a knock at the door just as she seasoned the raw chicken frying in the pan.

She pulled the door open to an exhausted Lena Luthor. "Hey," she smiled, "dinner is almost done. I think Alex is on the phone."

Lena pulled her into the tight hug she was too afraid to initiate, "It smells good. Thank you." She placed a quick, cautious kiss against the blonde's neck.

Pulling away, Kara remembered her girlfriend's earlier text. "Sit. Let me get you a drink."

"I'll get it," Lena declined, "You cook."

Kara smiled fondly as she watched Lena move with ease through her kitchen, pulling a bottle of scotch down from a cabinet she put there for herself months ago. God, did she want to kiss her. As if Lena could feel her eyes, she spoke without even lifting her head. "Don't burn my dinner."

"It's not burnt," She turned her attention back to the pan, "it's…crispy. Shit."

Lena wanted to laugh. It was _adorable_. But she could sense the rising anxiety from the usually calm woman. "It's fine. Where are the noodles?"

Kara nodded toward a bag on the countertop while she turned off the burner. Lena returned with the sinewy rice noodles, placing them in the boiling stock, then popped a piece of slightly blackened chicken in her mouth. "See? Delicious," she grinned.

The blonde slumped against her, sighing. "Shouldn't you be the one comforting me?" Lena teased as she rubbed the reporter's arm.

"Shit, Lena. I'm so sorry. I just wanted everything to be so perfect and—" Lena cut her off.

"It's okay. You're perfect. It's distracting me from how nervous I am." She laughed softly, adjusting their bodies as she pulled the blonde into an embrace. "But maybe you could use a break?"

Kara looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, "What kind of break are you suggesting?"

She felt Lena's hands shift around her waist as the brunette's throaty laugh reverberated throughout the kitchen. In lieu of a kiss, Kara received: the brunette's glass of scotch, warm hands settling comfortably in the back pockets of her jeans, and a promise of "later."

With at least another five minutes left until their dinner was finished cooking, they settled into quiet conversation. Did Kara finish that article today?_ I've gotta tweak it, but yeah._ What, specifically, was so awful about Lena's day and how could Kara fix it? _That fucking proposal...but this is helping._ Did Lena want to stay the night?_ Absolutely._

The timer buzzed. Dinner was ready. Though not quite ready to extricate herself from Lena's grasp, Kara called for Alex. "Dinner!"

"I'm right h—." Alex began in frustration, cutting herself off as she rounded the corner. "Oh. _Oh_. You're…this was…" She didn't know where to start. The couple sprang apart as she spoke. Lena wanted to sink into the floor. She felt trapped. Stuck in the kitchen like a lobster about to be boiled alive. Anxiety bubbled in her chest and her fingertips were going numb. She should leave, right? This meant it was time to go?

"I should go," she whispered to Kara.

"No, Lena. Stay, please." Kara's eyes were frantic. _What the fuck, Alex. Fix this!_

The pained look on her sister's face seemed to kick Alex into gear, "Yeah, uh, I heard Kara made you ramen? Smells good." She smiled. Comforting, warm, welcoming.

The reporter smiled, nodding in encouraging confirmation. _She's safe_.

For a moment Lena's boardroom persona slipped on like armor. "I guess it would be a waste."

—

Dinner went smoothly.

If FBI Special Agent Alex Danvers noticed that Lena was shaking - her nerves still overwhelming in spite of the alcohol - or that she couldn't bear to meet her eye, she was kind enough to not mention it.

She smiled fondly when Lena gushed about Kara's cooking in-between stories which she had previously only heard heavily watered down versions. She was proud of her sister's protective loyalty, even if it meant lying to her.

When they settled back down on the couch with tea, Alex suggested putting on another movie. "Something gay," she raised an eyebrow at the couple.

Eventually, Alex selected _Kyss Mig_ and Lena finally felt brave enough to say, "It's so much better than _Imagine Me & You_," through the blush that hadn't left her cheeks in hours.

"Finally! Someone on my side!" Alex laughed, poking her sister.


	3. Chapter 3

Lena was riding on a high since coming out to Alex. Suddenly, the world didn't seem so bad. She had been fantasizing about throwing caution to the wind for nearly a week now. In her mind, she would withdraw the money from her account before her mother could even think of the next worst thing to say. In reality, she knew the second she asked her financial manager to close the account, her mother would be contacted as the primary supervisor.

Rationally, Lena knew she couldn't fight it. It was family money - whether she inherited it or earned it at Luthor Corp. Still, that didn't make it anything less than what it was: an egregious violation of her privacy.

—

When Kara arrived for lunch with Big Belly Burger, Lena was positively floating. She hadn't seen Kara since their dinner with Alex, as they were both buried under piles of work, but their conversation seemed almost endless.

The blonde gave her a goofy grin as she closed the door behind her, "Can I…?"_ Can I kiss you?_

Lena shook her head almost imperceptibly as she stood from her desk to guide her girlfriend to the couch, mindful of the security feed. Kara pulled out two burgers and two cups of fries as she sat.

"Do you want coffee or something?" Lena asked, gesturing to the coffee maker in the corner of her office.

Kara gave her a toothy grin, nodding. "With ice please."

Lena bit her lip at the adorable gesture, standing back to stop herself from kissing the other woman. "Start eating. What happened at work?" She asked before heading to the coffee pot, pouring what was left from her earlier brew in a clean mug over sugar. Then, pouring in milk before she walked over to the bar cart to add a few cubes of ice.

"Cat actually wanted me to ask you about the gala," she mumbled through a large bite of cheeseburger.

"Oh?" Lena inquired, smiling as she sat, placing the mug on the table.

Swallowing, the reporter spoke, not bothering to wipe her face that was covered in smeared ketchup. "Yeah, can you swing me a press pass?"

"Do you usually ask for media access with that much food on your face? Or am I special?"

"Yep," Kara chirped before shoving three fries in her mouth.

Rolling her eyes as she unwrapped her own food, Lena continued, "The gala is…well, the fucking gala. My mother is out for blood. I can ask her but you may want to have Cat send an official email over first."

Kara winced, "Yeah, I'll do that. Sorry."

Lena shrugged, "It's just how she is."

"Still," Kara reached forward, giving Lena's thigh a comforting squeeze.

Lena became particularly adept over the years at avoiding topics of conversation that revolved around her mother, or at the very least her real feelings about her mother. This, unfortunately, extended to her conversations with Kara. Unless directly asked, she saw no reason to bring up the fact that for the last week her mother was berating her at every turn simply because she was the easiest target to hit with any pent up stress - gala-related, or otherwise. And Kara hadn't asked…at least not in so many words, not in a way that was unavoidable.

As she tucked into her burger, enjoying the reprieve, Kara spoke. "Cat also asked me to write an article," she began, treading lightly, "about small town gay bars." Kara's voice erred on too-casual as Lena pretended to be very interested in the salt-to-potato ratio on the fry in between her index finger and thumb. "Nothing major, just a couple hours outside the city."

"And you want me to go with you?" Lena asked, finally looking up with narrowed eyes. Her tone hinted at fear and curiosity, but held no malice for the suggestion.

Kara sipped her coffee. "No pressure."

They finished their lunch with ease, discussing lighter topics like Alex's third failed date of the month (this time, with a woman who did a very aggressive and not that drunken rendition of God-des & She's "Lick It" via the bar's karaoke machine) and Kara's latest binge-watch (as many episodes of _Love Island_ as she could find). Lena returned to her work, but not without promising Kara - "I'll think about it." - before they parted ways.

And she did. She spent the better part of her afternoon turning the thought over in her head. Could she even consider stepping foot in a gay bar? Even if it _was_ that far out of town? Even under the pretense of going with a friend _for research_? She quickly donned her mother's disdainful eye and poked holes in their flimsy story.

Surely at least a smattering of gay men (and, a small part of her hoped, women) remembered her time spent in the trashiest of tabloids when she just entered college - back when she thought a fake ID, drinking her weight in alcohol, and throwing herself at the nearest man could solve her problems. Well, problem. Of course, that slowed once school became her priority, but the boorish men that hung around her brother never wanted to let her forget that regrettable period of her life.

A small voice pushed back at her inner critic; one that reminded her how she stared longingly at the crowd of gay men and women lined up outside the bars in National City's gay district every night on her way home from work. One that told her any gay person who grew up in a small town would know exactly how she felt, no questions asked. And she knew she needed that, that unerring support that only came with real community.

_Lena [4:41PM]: I'll go_

_Kara [4:43PM]: YAY!_

_Kara [4:44PM]: This weekend? We can stay at an airbnb or something, make a trip out of it? I'm gonna want to go the bar couple times at least for the story._

_Lena [4:46PM]: Yeah, that sounds nice. Send me links if CatCo isn't covering it._

Kara sent back the familiar series of sugar-themed emojis that were her usual response when Lena offered to cover a large expense and the businesswoman rolled her eyes.

She still sent back a kiss emoji.

—

That Friday night, the couple found themselves en route to the small desert town that is home to Pat's, the subject of Kara's article. Cityscape turned into mountains which shifted to vast sprawling desert. The exits on the highway drifted farther apart and led to dirt roads, where Lena pulled off into the driveway of their Airbnb with ease. Horses strolled around a set of corrals at the neighboring houses. _Ranches_, she supposed.

Kara grinned wide, "Horses!"

Lena smiled, nodding. "Let's get settled, then you can say hi?"

Turning off the engine, she lifted herself out of the car. Their host's house was bright pink, jumping out against the dull brown dirt with cacti flowering all around.

"I'll grab the bags," Kara chimed over her shoulder before popping the trunk.

By the time they unloaded their bags and ate dinner, it was nearly nine-o'clock. Time to get ready. As Lena showered, steam filling the bathroom, Kara slipped in behind her. She stepped forward until her bare breasts brushed against the brunette's back.

"Hey," Lena greeted as she felt the blonde's arms snaking around her frame.

Kara placed a soft kiss against the businesswoman's neck as her hand teased down a pale thigh, inching toward the neatly trimmed tuft of hair. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," Lena sighed as she swung her arm back to grab Kara's ass, pulling her closer.

Kara didn't waste time. Immediately, her forefingers were at work, rubbing Lena's clit with the slight teasing pressure that she knew drove her wild. Dipping her fingers down, she teased at the brunette's core as she gathered slick arousal before she continued to toy with the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her free hand trailed up the pale skin of Lena's torso, eventually landing on her girlfriend's supple breast. Cupping the weight of the tender flesh, she felt a rosy nipple harden into her hand in spite of the heat of the water flowing around them.

Lena's hips bucked into her hand. "Fuck me," she whined.

"I thought that's what I was doing," Kara purred with a smirk before running her tongue over the other woman's ear lobe.

She gasped out her demand through Kara's never-ending ministrations. "Inside. I need you inside. Fill me."

She nipped at the pale skin of Lena's neck as her fingers sunk into molten heat. Lena moaned - _yes_ \- at the intrusion, grinding down to meet Kara's thrusts. The blonde worked her skilled fingers in and out at a bruising pace as Lena began to melt further into Kara, too far gone to hold her own weight.

"I've got you," she encouraged as Lena moaned against her cheek. "You're so good. So brave, Lena."

As she tugged at a taut nipple, she felt the brunette begin to tighten around her fingers. With one final thrust, her palm brushing over Lena's engorged clit, she came with a sharp gasp.

She hummed for a moment, smiling, before she finally turned to kiss the other woman. As she deepened the kiss, her hands exploring, she mumbled, "We should really shower." And they did, eventually.

—

When they arrived at the bar, it seemed no different from an average straight bar. Pool tables were scattered throughout the back half and men wore work boots that scuffed the floor with dirt. Though, as Kara looked around, so did the women. Some were dressed for hard labor - stiff boots, jeans, and loose shirts - but others wore nicer clothes, though certainly not to the level which Lena insisted. (_If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do this right_, she'd said.) The latest hits buzzed over the stereo system and a few couples paired off. Big, hairy men danced with thin, muscular twinks and nearby women were paired off in various arrangements. The lines of masculinity and femininity seemed to be even more blurred in this place where there were farms as far as the eye could see.

Kara was at ease, no more or less at home than she was in National City's various gay bars. Lena, on the other hand, was positively vibrating with anxiety.

"Drinks?" Kara asked. "I need to check in with the owner."

Lena nodded absentmindedly, too afraid to speak. Kara, noticing the sudden change, met her eyes. "You good?"

"Yeah," she lied. "I'm fine."

The blonde smiled sympathetically. "I'll get you something strong? Or you can always leave."

Lena gave her a tight, anxious smile, "Vodka cranberry, please."

When Kara began to lean over to give her a peck on the cheek, Lena realized that - in spite of all the build up to this moment - they had never discussed the rules of engagement. She leaned back, "What are you doing, Kara?"

Sadness danced across her eyes for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "Sorry, I guess I just thought—. Forget it. Sorry. Drinks." As she turned on her heel toward the bar, Kara called out, "Find us a table!"

As Lena settled in a booth against the wall, she berated herself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course she asked me here expecting to kiss me in public. Of course she's upset. I can't believe she's lasted this long. What is she waiting for? She should've left me months ago._

Kara found her at the table, five minutes deep into a self-imposed lashing. When she slid into the booth, setting Lena's drink down in front of her, she tried to catch her eye. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Lena said more to the table than Kara as she picked at the napkin on which her drink rested.

"There's nothing to apologize for. We should've talked more about it, that's all. Have your drink, I'll take some notes and try to talk to some people, then we'll see how you feel."

Kara said it like it was the simplest thing in the world - and maybe it was - but to Lena it felt like her lungs were in a pressure chamber, and that pressure chamber was trapped thirty-thousand leagues under the sea.

"Okay," she said, finally sipping her drink.


	4. Chapter 4

As Lena drained the vodka from her glass, she began to relax into the booth. The sharp rhythmic tapping of her black stiletto against the hardwood stilled, though her body still shuddered if anyone ventured too close to the table. She watched wistfully as the couples danced, laughed, and kissed across the bar. So free. The sight took Lena back to the last gift Lionel gave her before he died: a snow globe purchased on his final business trip to Russia. Two ballerinas glided through the St. Petersburg snow inside delicate, hand-painted porcelain with ease as a Tchaikovsky opus played. Painfully beautiful and too fragile to ever touch, Lillian took it away before the young Luthor could break it.

Wincing at the memory, Lena watched on as Kara interviewed a tall bearded man. The reporter spoke animatedly before adjusting her glasses self-consciously in the perfectly adorable way that made Lena's heart swell. Kara typed notes quickly into her phone, glancing down just briefly, mindful of the man's time. She grinned wide at something he said, glancing in the direction of their table.

Lena, encouraged by the dimness that shrouded the room and the seclusion of the booth, smiled back. She wanted desperately to drag herself out of the dark booth and run to Kara. To pull her away from the surely nice man, to dance with her, to kiss her in front of all these people. But she couldn't move. Instead, she stayed firmly in her seat where she was pulled out of her reverie by a bottle of beer sliding onto the table. Lena looked up in confusion to see a feminine redheaded woman in tight black jeans and a cropped white t-shirt.

She nodded toward the melting ice in Lena's glass. "Noticed yours was empty. Name's Ashley."

"Hi," Lena greeted somewhat stiffly. Her mind was racing. Would someone notice them? She certainly didn't want the attention, but how would she explain why? It suddenly felt wrong to lie. She rubbed her hands against the rough, raw denim on her thighs.

"You seem a bit out of place here." The blunt statement felt like a sucker punch and it must have showed, because the redhead backpedaled. "No, no—I just meant you're overdressed."

Lena glanced down at her Diane von Furstenberg blouse, covered by a flashy floral embroidered bomber of similar origin, boutique denim, and Jimmy Choos. Maybe it was too much for Pat's but it was a casual outfit by Luthor standards. She shrugged and sipped at melting ice through a straw. "I'm from out of town."

"Well, that's too bad." A beat. She tilted the beer bottle in her hand to gesture over her shoulder toward the bodies moving in sync. "Would you like to dance?"

"I…" She trailed off, but the sentence had limitless endings in her mind. _I have a girlfriend. I can't be seen here. I don't do that anymore._

"It's okay, hon. I've danced with a straight girl before." Ashley soothed. "You just looked like you could use some company."

Lena gave her a tight smile in response. "Sure, why not?" The question was rhetorical, meant to display an ease she didn't feel. Still, her mind screamed with too many obvious answers in response.

As the pair made their way to the small dance floor, Lena recalled her clubbing days. The music was different but the principle was the same. Ashley led her through bodies toward the center of the room, rolling her hips to the music (an unidentifiable remix) at a close but respectful distance. It felt like second nature as old muscles reawakened at the feel of the bass pulsing in her feet. It wasn't long before a contented smile was sparkling across the previously stiff businesswoman's face as she lost herself in the music, forgetting her previous anxieties.

Maybe it wasn't so bad.

Beat after beat rattled in-between her ears and she was sure to have a headache by morning. (An unfortunate side effect of being decidedly _not_ nineteen anymore.) Bodies gyrated all around as the patrons enjoyed the music and their shared community.

The brunette caught her new acquaintance's eye, watching as a mix of trepidation and amusement washed over the other woman's face when two familiar hands settled on her hips from behind. Lena froze for a moment. The fear she had just shaken came racing back, screaming: _This can't happen. Not like this, not here. Not for everyone to see._

"Is this okay?" Kara asked, a perfect mirror of just hours earlier when her arms embraced the CEO in the shower. Except then, there was no one around to see Lena fall.

Lena gave a bashful smile to the redhead who grinned back as her hands brushed over Kara's forearms, pulling her closer before turning her head to meet her girlfriend's eye. She was safe. "Yeah."

"Let me know, okay?" Kara said, squeezing the brunette's hip for emphasis before beginning to move her body to the music. As Lena settled back into Kara's movements, her anxieties washed away. She felt no judgmental stares or lingering eyes, just the comforting weight of her girlfriend's arms.

The song ended and Lena turned in the reporter's arms, slowing their movements. Instead, they moved out of sync with the music that blared over the speakers as the brunette relaxed into Kara's arms, finally heaving a sigh of relief after the unrelenting tension of the night. Stress began to ease out of her heavy bones as she swayed gently with Kara, who leaned closer to ask, "How are you doing?"

Though her heart was racing and she could feel sweat beading in all the wrong places at the public display of intimacy, Lena responded in the affirmative with a kiss. The floor hadn't opened up to swallow her whole. The world didn't stop spinning. She was _okay_.

Kara pulled away, grinning wide and radiant. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Lena nodded shyly.

Kara - _goofy, adorable Kara_ \- lifted her off the ground into a bone-crushing hug, overwhelmed with excitement and pride. They both giggled as Kara placed her back down on the ground, leaning in for another joyful kiss.

—

When they returned to the house that night, Lena's hands were soft and reverent as she explored Kara's muscular frame; a supplicant to her tender god. There was nothing rushed about her movements as her fingertips traced Kara's jaw before pressing a series of chaste kisses along the same line, finally capturing her lips. Or, when she unbuttoned each individual button of Kara's shirt with the careful hand of an artisan.

Each touch felt heavy with emotion and strong enough to hold the weight. Moments froze in time, like they could last forever, and each woman wished it so. They moved in unison. Each caress and thrust reverberated twofold as their bodies tangled from head-to-toe, mirroring their pleasure unto one another.

When their trance finally broke, Kara came tumbling with a gasp, "I love you."

Lena looked back at her, all soft eyes and trepidation and unspoken words - like, _are you sure_ and _I love you too_, but Kara was sure. Pulling her in for another kiss, Kara repeated herself - this time, with exigent sincerity. "I love you, Lena Luthor. I'm so glad I get to be here with you."

With a watery grin, Lena responded. Her heart was fuller than she thought possible. "I love you too."

Kara smiled, wide and sparkling. "Say it again."

"I love you," she whispered, their lips brushing in the small space between them before they sealed the declaration with a kiss. The couple fell once more into a heated embrace. By the time they woke, both women were sated and not particularly well rested. (When Lena glanced at the alarm clock somewhere around her fourth orgasm, it was just past three o'clock and Kara said _don't worry about it_.)

Stretching out stiff muscles, Kara felt her tendons release built up kinetic energy. She rolled back over to her girlfriend to pull the brunette in close, resting the woman's head on her chest. "What's for breakfast?" She sighed out, hungry.

"Good morning to you too," Lena laughed lightly, propping her head up on her elbow with a smirk. "Remember yesterday when I said _bring food_ and you said _I have snacks_ and I said _you'll get hungry in the car_ and you said _I'll be fine_ and then ate all of your snacks in the car?" Kara's eyes narrowed playfully. "No? Okay, well, we have coffee."

Kara groaned in response, dropping her head onto the pillow dramatically.

"Get dressed and we can go food shopping. I'll make coffee."

Lena rose from the bed with a brief kiss, not bothering to slip on her clothes again as she headed toward the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. When she returned to the bedroom with two hot cups, Kara was half asleep, disheveled as she lounged haphazardly across the mattress.

Her heart swelled at the sight. _Adorable_.

The blonde's tired features perked up at the scent. "Coffee?"

Lena raised an eyebrow, smiling as she handed over the beverage.

"I was showering in my dream," Kara defended, mumbling into the green mug.

Okay, so _maybe_ she was less dreaming and more fantasizing about Lena in the shower again but…breakfast, right?

—

As the pair strolled through the produce section of the grocery store, Kara groaned. "What are going to do with _kale_ for breakfast?"

"We need food."

"Exactly. That's not food." _Obviously_. Kara sped toward the pastry case as they escaped seemingly endless rows of fresh, nutritious foods. Grabbing excitedly at a strawberry frosted donut with multicolored sprinkles, she looked pointedly at her girlfriend as she placed it in a bag, "See? Breakfast."

They strolled through the rest of aisles as Lena selected sensible items like pasta and pre-canned marinara while Kara filled the cart with various snacks ("It's one day," Lena complained at the rising pile. "I'm hungry," Kara shrugged obviously.) until they reached the frozen food section, because Kara _did not _want to wait for anything that needed more than one-minute-and-thirty-seconds in the microwave. She could maybe be pressed to wait for a toaster, but that was pushing it. Lena drove the ominously full cart toward the breakfast items, the ravenous reporter's stomach leading the way.

"What were you thinking? Potatoes? Waffles? Burritos?" Kara asked absentmindedly over her shoulder as she lingered in front of the fully stocked freezer. "Lena?" She pressed as the other woman failed to respond.

When she turned her head, Lena was on the phone looking even paler than usual.

"…No, mother I haven't _checked twitter_…

"…Of course it's not true. That's ridiculous…

"…Yes, I know the gala is coming up. It's not as if I planned—

"…I'll come in right now."

The freezer door hung open as Kara stared at a version of her girlfriend she'd never seen before. She was cold; colder than Lena Luthor, Director of Research and Development. This was a much more carefully crafted version and she had armor suited to survive a nuclear war. It bordered on sexy - not that Lena needed to do much for that - but Kara's concern won out. She looked on, trepidatious.

The businesswoman slid her phone in her purse and looked up. "That was Lillian." _Start with the obvious, the easy part._ "Someone took a picture of me last night. They…well, they recognized me. I have to go back to the city."

And Kara knew what that meant. It meant _I'm leaving and I'm not coming back_, so she asked what seemed like the most important question in the world at the time. "What about breakfast?" _Can you stay just a little bit longer? _

Lena started to look like her Lena again, no hard edges just watery eyes and pure softness. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Kara nodded as a lump formed in her throat. Everything felt so final. Even the thought of closing the freezer door seemed impossible, as if the act alone would shatter her. "Um, I love you, okay?"

And suddenly, Lena was paying for a cartful of groceries she was never going to eat and Kara wasn't sure she would either.


	5. Chapter 5

Their hands clasped over the gearshift on the short ride back from the grocery store. Any loss of affection now seemed like too much too soon. Every second mattered and they would make it count.

"Let me drive," Kara offered. One last gesture of her love. She felt so brutally responsible.

They drove in silence as every song on the radio seemed handpicked for maximum heartache. Kara hadn't thought about Gotye's "Someone That I Used To Know" since her junior year of college, but suddenly it was blasting through the speakers - taunting them both. When Adele's voice bounced over the console, Lena finally jammed the power button off.

"Enough of that," she huffed. It would have been funny if it didn't hurt so much.

They brought in the groceries together, one last time. Put them away together, one last time. They lingered on the last item - a can of Pizza Pringles that made Lena groan.

"I don't know how you eat these. They're vile and completely unidentifiable."

"They're good!" Kara defended, "And they're not supposed to taste like pizza anyway."

They smiled at the familiarity of the debate, finding comfort in it. It was so _normal_. (This was the part where Lena, like clockwork, always said, "But they're _pizza_ pringles!") As the brunette placed the canister on the countertop, folding up the paper bag that housed it for later use, her eyes settled sadly on Kara. The levity of the moment was gone as the reality of their situation was suddenly crackling through the room in screeching clarity.

"So…" she started, unable to bring herself to finish the thought.

"I can take the train back," Kara supplied. Helpful, supportive…down to the last second. "You can take the car, if you need. I mean, it's your car. So…obviously." She felt so stupid. She didn't know how to talk to Lena like this, like they were supposed to be strangers.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. _Not at all._

—

Kara stared numbly at her phone for days, waiting for a text from Lena that never came. Any sign that maybe this wasn't the end, that maybe this wasn't her fault. She watched as the internet exploded with - _her girlfriend? ex?_ \- Lena's name and she saved a screenshot of the epicenter of it all to her phone. Sure, it was a little weird, strangers commenting on their relationship like it was a sideshow, but their words warmed her heart in a way she hadn't felt since Lena vacated the small ranch-style home.

The initial tweet that ignited this chaos in her life was simple enough. It didn't seem possible that 150 characters or less were capable of upending her relationship with Lena. It read:

_ bottomfeeder (11:14 PM on 02/03/2020):_

**_lena luthor is at pat's being cute as shit with this hot lesbian_**

**_they're literally slow dancing to robyn, like u cannot?_**

The picture attached to the thread was nearly blurred beyond recognition - the lens fighting against the darkness of the room - but Kara remembered the moment well. Lena was smiling fondly as she gazed down into her calming green eyes, one hand resting on her hip…heart-achingly familiar. They stood close together on the dance floor - too close to be _Just Friends!_, like the retraction TMZ published at the thinly veiled threat of Luthor Corp's legal entourage.

When Cat called her it wasn't to check in on the article or to see how she was holding up. No, she ranted for long minutes, "We may not be The Daily Planet, but I will not stoop to that level. I cannot believe that sorry excuse for a news outlet. That rat. Outing someone? He's gay! Bastard."

Kara wanted to interject that, though TMZ ran the story, they hadn't in fact been the initial source, but she stopped herself. She hated TMZ just as much as Cat and the argument still stood for their source. Though she was angry, she couldn't help but feel just as angry at herself as her boss' words shot straight to her heart.

_Lena never would have been in that bar if it wasn't for me. _

Nevertheless, she'd been on the receiving end of one too many Cat Grant certified diatribes about the (lack of) journalistic integrity at other publications in their demographic and knew better than to interrupt.

Cat gave her the week off anyway.

"I don't want you moping around. It's bad for morale."

—

She spent the next week doing exactly that. She moped around potstickers, donuts, popcorn, pizza, and even some ill-advised gas station sushi. Everything in her apartment reminded her of Lena. The couch where they curled into one another, bodies perfectly matched, on movie nights. The kitchen where they baked cookies after throwing half a bag of flour on the floor in an impromptu food fight. The bedroom where Lena's clothes had just begun to find a home in her bedside table. The bathroom where the businesswoman's spare toothbrush and toiletries laid, now collecting dust.

What once served as gentle, comforting reminders of the brunette as she moved through her apartment now felt like barbed wire around her heart.

She moped around those last few episodes of The L Word she promised Lena they would watch together and she moped around Game Night. The thought that Lena was meant to be there with her, really there, echoed in her mind relentlessly. And sure, it was nice to see her friends, but the shock of the news got the best of them.

_"Lena Luthor…the billionaire?" Winn's eyes were wide with excitement._

_"Does she have a private jet? How big is her apartment?" That was James._

_"So…what's she like…?" Nia was smirking when Kelly jumped in to graciously divert the conversation, telling a story about her sister's haphazard drive to the apartment that night. _

She moped until Alex dragged her to the bar - you need to get out - and she moped when she opened her phone to see Lena's name trending on Twitter once again. This time, next to National City's preeminent creep - Maxwell Lord.

The article smeared across her phone read: _Business Or Pleasure For Lord Tech and Luthor Corp?_ Underneath was a photo of Lena on the CEO's arm, stepping out of a restaurant Kara could never afford and onto the sidewalk toward a waiting car.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything but continue to exist in the reality laid out before her. Kara couldn't hate Lena, no. But she could certainly try. Later, after half a glass of wine and another half an hour on the phone with Alex, she calmed down enough to be curious. She looked up the restaurant. As she perused the menu she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. _Both?_ A salad and two drinks cost enough to make her short on rent.

—

In what seemed like a different universe but was mere miles, Lena was doing her best to simply make sense of the week from hell. She was certain Dante added another circle just for her, stuck in the back of Satan's throat to forever burn on acid bubbling up from the pits of Tartarus.

_If only. That would be a vacation. _

She was brutally, unerringly awake as she drove back to National City, replaying the last twenty-four hours in her mind. As desert shifted into cityscape, her anxiety built and her adherence to the speed limit decreased. She was desperate to prolong her journey back to the city, dreading what lay ahead. Lena knew the minute she entered the Luthor manor, she would be held unyieldingly responsible for…well, existing.

For remembering she was no longer a child, that she was free to live as she pleased.

For being honest enough to love Kara and brave enough to do so in public, howsoever fleeting.

There would be no room - in a house seemingly endless - to mourn the loss of her girlfriend, the best thing in her life to date. So, she drove slower than necessary as cars hummed past her. In the car, she was safe. Kara's scent lingered in the upholstery and, for a moment, it was comforting. Until it wasn't. It wasn't long before she could feel her heavy heart crack wide open in her chest and tears began to stream down her cheeks. Her eyes drifted to her phone like it was magnetized - _maybe she'll text me_. A harsher voice reminded her, _Of course she won't. You're on your own. You did this to yourself._

It was that voice that guided Lena through the outskirts of National City, down a familiar driveway. She steeled herself, retouching what little makeup she had applied that morning. She assessed the casual outfit she selected for their otherwise domestic trip to the grocer's, feeling utterly underdressed for her own lashing.

—

It was nothing she hadn't heard before. The same patented Luthor disappointment which could only be met with one of two responses: submissive silence or a _yes, mother_. So, that week when Lillian requested she attend a business dinner with Maxwell Lord, she agreed without second thought.

_The Luthor matriarch stopped her just after a staff meeting. "Oh, Lena? I was supposed to meet Maxwell Lord for dinner tonight…discuss various proposals, joint ventures." Her eyes narrowed, but her voice was edging on sweet. "The vendor the museum contracted is absolutely horrendous. Can you manage?"_

_"Yes, mother. Send me the details."_

It was only when Lena arrived at the restaurant that she realized how masterfully her mother had manipulated the night's events. She plastered on a smile as she slid into the seat reserved for her at the CEO's table, thinking back to late nights in bars with men she couldn't will herself to love.

"I took the liberty of ordering," he attempted to charm. "I know the chef."

She grinned in acknowledgement - "Thank you, Max, may I call you Max?" - but when a gaudy lobster tail, smeared with an ungodly amount of butter was placed in front of her she could barely hold back a grimace. Did he somehow think she, a billionaire in her own right, would be impressed by lobster?

"It's lovely," she lied through her first bite as he tucked into a cut of Kobe beef across the table.

Kara would have ordered her the biggest salad on the menu, teased her about the sight of a vegetable ruining her appetite, and then ordered dessert "to share," that she would take one bite of before allowing Lena to finish it as she stared on adoringly.

Maxwell Lord was not Kara - not by a long shot. It was kinder to spit in Kara's face, to replace all of her donuts with wheatgrass, to tell her she could never watch Spotlight again, to make her listen to "You Are My Sunshine" on a loop in the tennis section of Dick's Sporting Goods - anything, _anything_ was kinder than comparing Kara Danvers…loving, kind, thoughtful, endlessly joyful Kara Danvers to slime like Maxwell Lord, but Maxwell Lord was her new normal.


	6. Chapter 6

He was beyond insufferable. She hated him, hated him, hated him. Hated the way his hands were too heavy and his face was too rough and how his words dripped with the putrid stench of overconfidence, as though he'd doused himself in AXE body spray at his last fraternity party a decade ago and hadn't showered since.

Maxwell Lord thought himself to be one-in-a-million, no, one-in-a-billion. And sure, his bank account supported this theory, but in Lena's eyes he was worth about as much as the watered down coffee she knew the receptionist left in the Luthor Corp executive break room (after pouring herself a fresh, untainted cup, of course). Unlike Maxwell Lord, however, the coffee had an easy fix: one shake from the container of instant coffee in her desk drawer, or a new pot if she was so inclined, and problem solved. The only fix for this particular mess, however, was to muddle through it.

She was currently stood by the tech mogul's side at a yacht party off the coast of National City, meant to be shown off to Lord Technology's investors like the prize trophy of a big game hunt. "…And so I was standing there with Clooney," _He wasn't._ "And he says, 'Leo, you've gotta talk to my boy Max.'" _Leonardo DiCaprio? Un-fucking-likely._ No matter how utterly tiresome she found it, she had to admit it was impressive…the way he wrapped these fools around his finger, hanging on his every word. But how dumb could they possibly be?

As she drained the last sip of her champagne and placed the glass on the tray of a passing waiter. She smiled with forced charm at the group. "Excuse me for a moment, boys."

Turning, Lena made her way to the bathroom with greater ease than she felt. It had been three months of relentless nights out and though each night she told herself it would be easier, each night the walls closed in just a bit sooner than before. She paused at the sink, running the cool water over her wrists as she tried to breathe through her rising panic.

_How the fuck did I get here?_

She sighed as she saw herself in the mirror. The now constant bags under her eyes were covered by carefully applied make up, but it did nothing for the dulled shine of her green eyes. The weight that seemed to disappear along with Kara from her life was clear as day. Her collar bones stuck out like jagged edges and her stomach was even flatter than usual. Max loved it. _"You look great, baby,"_ he'd say in a voice that made her skin crawl. She wasn't sure if he cared she started adding protein powder to her coffee, because it was the only thing she trusted herself to eat or drink on a consistent basis.

Kara would have cared. Kara, who spent mornings nuzzled into her stomach and who plied her with donuts and fast food at the slightest glimpse of a craving, would have noticed. Her thoughts began to drift to soft hands and blue eyes and gentle words, but she shook them free. Kara was in the past and she needed to stay there.

The bathroom door opened as she pulled her hands from the faucet, startling her. It was one of the waiters, a muscular, blonde woman whose choppy dyed hair and tattoos were a clear sign that she was much more than trays of hors d'oeuvres. Lena recognized her from earlier in the night as the waiter who stared down her cleavage while she took a few seconds too long reaching for the tray, under the guise of searching for the perfect piece of crudité.

A look of realization dawned on the woman's face as she lingered in the doorway.

"Hello," Lena greeted through the mirror, rolling the syllables easily on her tongue.

"Sorry, I didn't realize anyone was in here."

"I don't see anyone," Lena shrugged, turning toward the woman as she nodded toward the door. The blonde closed it behind her in response. "You know who I am?"

"I won't tell anyone." A tight lipped smile that said Yeah, sorry as her eyes flashed with a sadness the brunette didn't care for, "It's fucked—"

"I don't need your sympathy," she said succinctly before pulling the woman flush against her body as she backpedaled to the sink. The muscular arm wrapped around her waist felt hauntingly familiar for a moment as she was hoisted onto the countertop, fingertips grasping her hips wanting more than she could give.

Lena met brown eyes as the bleach blonde leaned in for a kiss. No. She redirected the woman, pushing her to her knees. There was nothing intimate about this exchange as tattooed arms grasped her thighs and the waitress' head undulated beneath her dress, black underwear hanging precariously off her left ankle.

It was easier this way. Easier to imagine blue eyes and a smile like the sun and feeling like it would never end. Easier to imagine gentle hands and perfect lips and strong arms. If she closed her eyes, she was right there. She was safe. She was home. _Kara. Kara. Kara._

It felt the same in so many ways; so soft, so feminine. She wasn't Kara, but this was as close as she could get. It was different in more ways; rougher, distant. It could never be Kara and she knew it. Always, the same thought circled in her mind: _It's not Kara. It's not Kara. It's not Kara._

As tears built in her eyes, Lena pushed away the waitress' face along with the emotions that threatened to bubble over, "This didn't happen." _This shouldn't have happened. This couldn't happen._

"Right. For what it's worth…" the woman started, swallowing her pride as she rested on her heels.

"It's not." Lena brushed past her, not bothering to ask for a name before she quickly slid on her underwear and returned to the party.

What could she have possibly said? _It'll be okay. I'm sure things will work out. You won't be gay tomorrow._ Nothing fixed it, no matter what she did. Part of her…the part that still held on to the idea that Kara would be back in her life, that she'd wake up in the morning and all this would be just one horrific nightmare for the reporter to soothe away…that part ached from the betrayal of her love. The bigger part of her, though…the part that didn't believe she'd ever see Kara again, it ached even more so.

"Ah, Lena, there you are! I was just saying how much Greg's wife would _love_ your mother."

A nightmare, surely.


	7. Chapter 7

Kara settled into her desk early Tuesday morning, sipping at a fresh latte from Noonan's between bites of an apple cider donut. She was steadily returning to her old self: big smiles and relentless optimism. Sure, on some days her chest felt hollow, like every emotion echoed with sadness. Those were the days she forgot to avoid the gossip columnists and anything they produced like the plague, namely their latest headlines featuring what they affectionately called _The Luthor-Tech Merger_. Still, most days, breath filled her lungs just the same. She started jogging in the mornings with Alex and even went on a couple dates to appease her. If she spent too much time talking about Lena and never saw them again, she couldn't be blamed. No one could measure up. It was...a start.

The reporter's company computer whirred to a start, slowly booting up as she rocked side to side in her chair. Tapping a syncopated beat against the clacking keys, she logged in to her home screen, where 36 new emails waited for her perusal. After forwarding and replying to the simplest of the bunch, she spotted an email from her boss.

_**From:**__ cgrant _

_**To:**__ kdanvers _

_**Subject:**__ Press passes_

**_Body:_**

_Swing by my office when you have a minute, press passes have just arrived._

_-CG_

As she poked her head into the older woman's office, she inquired, "Hey, Cat, some passes came in?"

"They're right there," she gestured toward a series of badges resting on the coffee table, inviting Kara in as she continued drafting an email.

Stepping toward the center of the room, she examined the table. There were three badges with her name on them. Two for an upcoming film festival and one for the 43rd Annual Luthor Corp Gala. In the haze her life had become, she forgot completely about the gala. She stood frozen solid in front of her boss' desk. She felt her lungs collapsing as the barely mended wounds deep in her chest ripped open.

"Is there a problem, Kara?" It lacked the uncertainty of a question as she failed to shift purposeful eyes from her monitor.

_I can't go, can I?_

As Kara met the powerful woman's gaze, she realized there was no point fighting it. Whether it was Cat's half-hearted attempt at reuniting them (she couldn't very well take credit for a pre-planned story, try she might) or a stubborn power play, the reporter knew she had been beat.

"No, no problem," she choked out.

"Well. That'll be all."

With a small nod and tight smile, Kara returned to her desk. She couldn't go. She just couldn't. It felt more like a press pass to a death march than a lavish gala and it only seemed to grow more foreboding the longer it sat on the edge of her desk, as though the small lanyard might suddenly burn through the solid laminate table-top like horrifically corrosive acid if it stayed there too long, a ticking time bomb.

In a way, it was.

She glanced at the date on the badge - in two short weeks she was meant to be in the same room as her ex-girlfriend. Did Lena even remember inviting her? Should she call? Text? Email? Carrier pigeon? _Remember me, the woman you're in love with?_ A gnawing selfish need in her gut ached to call, to hear the brunette's voice once again, but she knew it would do more harm than good.

No matter what she did, nor how many pictures of Maxwell Lord crossed her desk, she couldn't hate Lena. She had to trust that Lena didn't forget her, she couldn't have. She had to believe that somewhere on the other side of the city Lena was thinking of her and only her. That on late nights over mind-numbing reports and scotch, green eyes peered out crystal clear windows in desperate hope that if only she looked long enough, Kara would meet her gaze.

That when Maxwell touched her - and god, how her heart ached, wishing he didn't, but _he did_ \- Lena could do more than just grin and bear it. That she was _too tired_ or _too drunk_ or _working late_ or _not tonight_ or _later_ or whatever it took for the brunette to feel at home in her body in all the ways she hadn't been for years. That she was safe. That she was some kind of happy.

That when her cell phone buzzed in alert, she wished it was the reporter checking in with a _have you had dinner yet?_ or _i miss you_. That behind the dazzling smile captured on the crisp pages of CatCo Magazine was a woman who wanted to come home. That Lena was still hers, regardless of the gaping crevasse between them. Kara couldn't change the way her heart called out to the brunette, or the way she yearned to hear the same reflected back.

Kara sighed, rising with more effort than she cared to admit. She had work to do.

—

Alex insisted on coming over an hour before game night "to help prep," which Kara could only interpret as, _I know you had a date last night and I want details_. Not much interpretation was needed, however, for Alex's prying gaze as they placed a selection of frozen snacks in the oven. "So…?"

"Alex," she groaned. "Nothing happened. Nothing is _going_ to happen." Her jaw was set as her frustration bubbled over, finally, after weeks of failed first dates and the sudden unrelenting stress of the gala. She'd had enough, more than.

"Kara…" The concerned sister did her best not to react to the outburst as the blonde kneed the oven shut, a behavior not particularly out of the ordinary though the vigor behind it was, as evidenced by the slight rattle of the grates on the stovetop. Alex watched cautiously as the tension that filled her sister's body dissipated as quickly as it came, replaced by watering eyes.

Kara let out a shaky breath. "Fuck. Sorry. I'm just…" As though she could wipe it all away, a tanned hand came to meet a worried brow. "How did this happen?" A teary laugh rose from her throat, more certain in that moment than she'd ever been before that Lena was seconds from bursting through the door to explain what an elaborate, hilarious prank she managed to pull off. Certainly, that was more feasible than her simply being _gone_. Simultaneously, she straddled feeling that Lena was by her side both mere seconds and several lifetimes ago, unable to parse which was right.

Alex hugged her, steady as ever. "Should we cancel?"

The blonde hesitated with a tentative sigh into the soft cotton of her sister's t-shirt.

"I'll cancel. More food for us." The decisive nudge of a protective older sibling.

"Yeah, okay," she relented quietly, releasing her hold on Alex only to lean against her, their backs pressed against the countertop.

Long moments of silence passed, filled only with the quiet sounds of Kara's sniffling as she held back tears and the sizzling of the food in the oven. Alex spoke. "You saw her today?"

"Um, no." The reporter cleared her throat, raw. "I got some passes in today. The Luthor Corp gala is in a couple weeks. I've gotta…" she trailed off, unable to find the words and still not quite sure what it was she was walking into. She just knew it had to be done.

"Shit."

"Yeah."

When they finally moved from their post in the kitchen, jarred by the oven timer, Alex propelled them with a suggestion of, "So..._Star Wars_ marathon?"

Kara's head bobbed with an excitable nod before she turned to grab a bag of microwave popcorn from the pantry.

"I'll get the wine," Alex chimed.

—

In a cavernously empty penthouse across the city, Lena Luthor was opening a wine bottle of her own. She was all too aware of the press pass searing a hole in her ex-girlfriend's purse as anxiety danced in her fingertips.

An email sat open on her sleek laptop that rested on the glass dining table, haunting among a graveyard of paperwork.

_**From:**__ lillian _

_**To:**__ Executive TeamBoard of Directors_

_**Subject:**__ Final List_

_**Attachments:**__2020 Gala Guest List _

**_Body:_**

_Attached is the final list. Please contact Emily in Corporate Events for any last minute changes._

_Lillian Luthor, MD_  
_CEO, Luthor Corp_

_We make things grow._

_National City__Metropolis__Worldwide_

At the bottom of the spreadsheet, one name called out to her, though she had no need to look for it. She remembered...well, she couldn't forget.

Kara Danvers, CatCo Worldwide Media.

—

The next week of work was unbearable. With each passing moment, the weight of the gala seemed to grow heavier, floating over Kara's head and waiting to crush her for all it was worth. (And if she remembered Lena's last stress-induced diatribe correctly, that was somewhere in the low millions, depending on the year.) When reality set in, so did panic: she had nothing to wear. She was seeing Lena for the first time in months, she couldn't just _show up_. The minute she arrived home from work that Friday, she began tearing through her closet.

The green floral? No. She wasn't preparing to teach kindergarten. Her pink dress? Too...cheery. She needed to be appropriately sad. What said _I've-been-lost-without-you-but-am-also-a-functional-independent-adult_? Certainly not her houndstooth skirt. Or her red dress. Or that admittedly loud patterned number she bought on impulse last year and _is totally going to wear, Alex_. She finally found it, the one she had been avoiding, shoved far into the back of her closet months prior in a fit of anguish.

Lena's favorite: her sleeveless black dress. She wore it on their first official date, both stuck late at the office and instead opting to indulge in take-out in between glances up from their respective reports.

_The businesswoman sighed into the phone, not even bothering to say hello. "I'm so sorry. I'm stuck."_

_"No, it's okay. Me too. I figured you'd be with everything going on. I was calling to ask if you wanted me to grab food for us. I need to get this article out by print tonight but...work date?"_

_"That sounds perfect," Lena grinned. "Can you get Chinese? You know what I like."_

_"I'll be there in thirty."_

The memory pressed, sharp, on her aching heart, but still the sight of Lena's bright smile as she stepped through the threshold - the scent of sesame chicken and lo mein wafting through her overworked senses - was unmatched.

Running a hand over her bicep, Kara noted that her muscles had grown more defined since she last wore the dress. She _had_ been working out more to cope with the break-up...and it wasn't as though Lena didn't miss her. It wouldn't be desperate - maybe brutally obvious - but not desperate. It was decided. Hooking the hanger over her door, she grabbed for the matching heels and sighed in relief.

_At least that part's over._

—

Otherwise innocent black fabric taunted Kara for the days that followed, reminding her of where she was headed. Each morning that drew the gala closer, she felt increasingly compelled to pick up the phone and call the woman that occupied her thoughts.

_How are you? _

_I miss you._

_I love you._

_I'll see you soon._

_Will I see you soon?_

When finally the moment came for her to get ready, lead coursed through her veins. Each movement proved more difficult than the last. Her usual fifteen minute shower edged on forty-five, no shade of makeup in her bag was right, her jewelry just didn't work, and _what was I thinking wearing this dress? _

Her phone chimed with an event reminder that read _leave now!_ as she rushed across her apartment in a search for anything that would pull the night together. With a deep, heaving breath to calm her nerves, she looked in the mirror. _This is as good as it's gonna get._

The National City Art Gallery was a short cab ride from the blonde's apartment. When she arrived long after closing, it sparkled with the city's elite who waxed poetic about Van Gogh and Rembrandt between glasses of champagne.

"Hi," A bright grin. "Kara Danvers. I'm with CatCo," she said in introduction at the registration desk, fishing a press pass out of her small clutch.

"Welcome, Miss Danvers. Here's your ticket, you can head on in. Hors d'oeuvres should be out shortly."


	8. Chapter 8

If she never received another email from the event planner, it would be too soon. Despite what her mother thought, Lena frankly didn't need to be cc'd on every single email detailing the finer machinations of the Luthor Corp Gala. Guest list versions A-H, seating arrangements, food vendors, invitations. She'd had enough. Still, she could hear Lillian's voice creeping in the back of her mind. _You're a Luthor, dear. This will all be yours someday. Act like it. _

It was that voice that led her to the staging room in the hours before guests arrived at the museum that Sunday. Gift bags lined the wall, embellished with the Luthor Corp logo. They were filled with various holiday treats from the natural grocery chain in which her brother insisted on investing major shares and, if she wasn't mistaken, the latest Luthor Corp tablet.

Her mother stalked the room, trailed by an overwhelmed young event planner who couldn't take notes fast enough. When the woman looked to be on the verge of tears, Lena spoke from her post - a chair in the corner where she nursed a cup of coffee, barely bothering to feign interest. "I think we've done all there is to do, mom."

The elder Luthor glanced at her daughter, surprised by the slight affection. "Very well." She acknowledged the employee with a brief nod before speaking to her daughter. "I'm going to get a drink before Morgan Edge arrives."

Lena chuckled drily at the derision with which her mother spat out the man's name. He was truly unbearable. Though, certainly, Lillian was unaware of the gut-wrenching irony of her disdain for a pig like Edge who could so easily take the place of the man unwittingly shackled to her own daughter's side.

As Max crossed Lena's mind, so did Kara. He would be there, of course. It wasn't an option. It was, as her mother insisted, the event of the year, after all. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what the blonde reporter was doing. Was she nervous? Excited? Was she even coming anymore? If she was, did she even want to see her? Was she seeing someone new? Did she even have the right to ask?

With a heavy sigh, she rested her head against the wall. _Fuck_.

It wouldn't be for another four hours - as she made mind-numbing small talk with investors who seemed less interested in the NASDAQ than the slit that ran up the side of her wine red dress, stopping just short of indelicate - that she'd see her.

Lena's phone buzzed in her clutch like a lifeline, pulling her away from the group. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. I have to take this." She pulled her phone from its pocket and managed to look busy on her walk across the floor. "Luthor Corp, this is Lena," she chimed the automatic greeting into her phone, grateful for the interruption.

It was an update from the Tokyo office. "Lena, I'm glad I caught you. I've been going through those reports you sent over. I think if we adjust the nitrogen exposure-"

Lena cut the man off, struggling to hear as the party buzzed around her. "Let me just get somewhere a little quieter."

Dodging overzealous drunk guests with little sense of personal space and even more horrifically, her mother, Lena finally reached her destination. She pushed on the handle of the thick oak door of the restroom and could barely believe what she was seeing. Kara was standing mere steps away - closer than she had been in months - all soft eyes and strong arms, worrying her bottom lip between bright white teeth as she gazed into the mirror with that adorable crinkle in her brow. Kara was right there and she looked _so beautiful_, more beautiful than Lena's memories could ever do justice, wearing a dress that kick-started her weary heart.

"I'm gonna have to call you back, Kaito." Her eyes never left the woman as she spoke distractedly into the receiver. Logically, she knew Kara was there. She'd heard her laugh warm the room earlier in the night. Her jaw clenched as she grit her teeth and fought off her most basic instincts; the ones that begged to leave Max's side and seek Kara out among the crowd. To find her and hold her close, to kiss her for the world to see. Instead, she gripped Max's arm tighter, smiled wider.

At the sound of her voice, Kara's head turned and it seemed as though lifetimes passed before she spoke. "L-Lena?" A beat. She fumbled her words, answering questions that weren't asked. "Uh, my article, but you probably know that. I was just...peeing?" She finished lamely, a rosy blush tinting her cheeks.

And Lena laughed. She laughed like she hadn't laughed in months. It was as if pure sunlight had been shot straight into her chest and it could only release through further brightness.

Kara took a tentative step forward, a soft smile on her lips. "I missed you," she whispered like volume might shatter the moment.

The brunette's laughter calmed, sobered by the other woman's words. Suddenly, Kara was within reach. She could smell her perfume. It was exactly as Lena remembered: a gentle vanilla that mixed unassumingly with that coconut conditioner the blonde loved so much. She was close enough to see the small scar in her brow and the bow of her lips. Close enough to touch, to kiss. It was more than Lena could have ever imagined she would have again.

Then, before she could think it through, before she could stop herself...Lena kissed her.

Into the kiss, she poured nearly six months of pent up emotion. All of her love and yearning and grief and _utter desperation_ muddled together as their lips met. Kara fit perfectly with every piece of her and she couldn't bring herself to care about the consequences. She was home. Finally, _finally_, Kara's hands were on her hips. Time was restarting and they were in a grocery store a hundred miles away. They were untouchable. There was no gala, no Max, no responsibility. Just Kara and Lena and love. "I missed you so much," she gasped out, "I love you. Fuck, I love you. _I love you_." The words kept tumbling out, like if she kept repeating them they'd stick.

They were barely kissing anymore, just reveling in the intimacy of the moment...soaking it in. It was a privilege not easily granted and the pair wanted to remember it all; soft lips, watering eyes, warm hands, and mending hearts. Lena shifted, burying her face in the crook of Kara's neck as she tugged her into a tight embrace.

"Hi," Kara smiled.

Lena responded with a soft kiss to the crook of her neck as they stood there for long moments, breathing each other in. As she spoke, her lips brushed against the soft skin of the blonde's neck. "I like your dress."

Kara held her tighter.

The utopic bubble they created couldn't last forever. When the door creaked open, the noise of the party filtering in, the couple sprang apart. An inebriated woman stumbled through the entryway toward the stalls, taking little note of the nervous pair fidgeting at the sinks. Lena cleared her throat as Kara attempted to busy herself, pumping complimentary lotion onto her hands. "We should...catch up," the brunette hedged.

Kara bit her lip through a smile, nodding. "I could use your help with my article."

"You know where to find me," replied the businesswoman before returning to the gala with a grin, leaving Kara with just one thought, _holy fuck_.

She stood there, stock-still, attempting to piece together the slightest shred of normalcy. _Lena was here. Lena kissed me. Lena loves me. Lena wants to see me._ It seemed too good to be true, completely and totally surreal. But it wasn't. It happened and it was going to happen again if she had any say in the matter. It had to.

She exited the bathroom not far behind Lena and it wasn't long before Lillian Luthor stood before the sizable crowd. The billionaire greeted the party guests from a podium flanked by what Kara was only half-certain was art.

"Thank you all for coming to the 43rd Annual Luthor Corp Gala! It is my great honor to announce that, with your help, we have raised nearly $750,000 for The Luthor Family Foundation. The funds will, of course, go toward our youth support efforts at the Luthor Family Children's Hospital which runs parallel to Luthor Corp's cancer research under the leadership of my daughter, Lena."

The reporter couldn't help but roll her eyes at the faux display of pride and kindness by the elder Luthor. _If these people only knew._

"Auction items are still available, so please come find me or another Luthor Corp staff member if you're interested. Again, thank you for your generosity. I've been told dessert will be out shortly, so do enjoy yourselves."

With a practiced hand, Lillian motioned to the band to keep playing and the hum of conversation kick-started once again. Kara found herself mindlessly gravitating toward Lena. She, of course, had seen the magnetic brunette earlier in the night across the room, but it was easier to ignore her before their kiss in the bathroom. Lena, though, seemed to be otherwise occupied. She was wrapped up in conversation with her mother who looked adoringly at Maxwell Lord, a hand resting on his forearm as she laughed at something _charming_ he said about her speech surely. Then, as the hand retracted, Lena leaned over and kissed him; like some kind of penance.

Kara's stomach twisted in knots. Nausea coated her tongue.

_This isn't real. She loves me. _

It was time to leave.


	9. Chapter 9

Lena knew as Kara's eyes followed her out of the bathroom, and then across the gallery while she found her way to Max's side once again, that things would have to change. She knew the instant she met Kara's eyes again, apart for so long, that she wouldn't dare let go - but nothing was that easy.

The brunette watched as her mother doted over her suitor, resigned. "You're too kind, Max," the older woman deflected his flattery with a friendly touch to the forearm. "Isn't he?" she asked Lena.

It wasn't a question posed to draw saccharine pleasantries from the youngest Luthor, but a challenge. One that said, _Prove it. Prove you're normal._ The wave of nausea that hit her was not entirely unexpected. Still, she couldn't bring herself to feel anything other than sorry for Max and his role in her mother's unrepentant games. Lena placed a halfhearted kiss on the man's lips, her chin brushing harshly against his beard as she prayed Kara had left the event, gone home. She knew she wasn't that lucky.

Across the gallery, Kara's vision collapsed. The room was suddenly claustrophobic; every face blurred to oblivion except for Lena's. Well, Lena and Max. They were in 8K ultra-high definition like the IMAX theatre from hell and Kara could see every gruesome detail through her 3-D glasses. Of course she knew about Max. She'd seen the photos...but seeing it, _really_ seeing it, was another thing entirely. Kara and her aching heart managed to jot down quotes from what few sober gala attendees she could find before fleeing through the nearest exit.

Hours later, she settled into bed with a cup of chamomile tea. As she breathed a deep sigh of relaxation into the mug, a series of sharp knocks sounded through the apartment. She set her cup down on the bedside table with a groan and padded toward the door.

"What do you _want_, Alex?" She griped, tugging the door open, not bothering to glance in the peephole. No one other than her sister, who had sent approximately two dozen texts since her _headed home _update -

_**Alex:**__ How'd it go?_

_**Alex:**__ What do you mean you saw her?_

_**Alex:**__ Kara?_

_**Alex:**__ Holy shit Kara, what the fuck_

\- would be at the apartment this late. It was edging close to midnight.

She was, of course, wrong. Lena spent all of thirteen minutes in her apartment after wrapping up the gala before deciding she had somewhere else to be. It was just enough time to kick off her heels and lay in aching relaxation on her couch, phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Each glance at her phone came with increasing frequency. (If her thumb hovered over the album in her camera roll not quite discreetly labeled _kd_...if she traversed it's contents, no one was around to confirm.) At 11:38pm, or the twenty-ninth glance to confirm that Kara Danvers had not in fact texted, tweeted, tagged, emailed, carrier-pigeoned, _anything'd_ her, the brunette slid tired feet into a pair of well worn slip-ons that had barely seen the light of day since MIT, and then, out the door.

"Oh. L-Lena? What are you doing here?"

"You said you needed help with your article," she explained smoothly before stepping more into Kara than the apartment. Her hands found Kara's hips like finely tuned magnets. The blonde had already changed out of her dress into more casual loungewear, a faded grey National City University t-shirt that shrank in the wash to expose a slight stretch of tanned skin where the fabric failed to meet the waistband of her baggy red gym shorts. Her thumbs rubbed contentedly at the offering.

Their lips met once again as the door swung shut, feverish. The touch was less restrained than their meeting in the gallery bathroom; this was their space and they knew it. Who would dare stop them?

Lena's kisses were searing with all pretense gone. Her teeth scraped at the blonde's lower lip before her tongue darted out to soothe the flesh in a desperate cycle of pain and pleasure. Singleminded, she guided Kara to the kitchen table where her thighs barely hit the edge before she obediently lifted her hips onto the table. The action seemed to pull her into the reality of the moment.

Lena was in her apartment, right in front of her, kissing her. But for how long? Was this all she got, all she was worth? Midnight drop-ins and grimy public restrooms?

"Wait, wait. _Lena_. What is this? What are we doing?"

The constant ache in the brunette's chest doubled at the unanswerable question. She heaved a sigh as her forehead came to rest on Kara's shoulder, arms encircling her waist.

"I don't know." A beat. "I love you." The words held a weight that Lena didn't know how to express. She had no idea what to do about her family or all of the baggage that came with them. What she did know, with unfailing certainty, was that she loved Kara Danvers. Her laugh and the way that perfect scar in her eyebrow crinkled as her eyes lit up bright blue when she did. Her bottomless stomach and her warmth that rivaled the goddamn sun. But she wasn't the sun, she was just a woman. A perfect, flawed, wonderful _woman_.

Kara sat for a minute, silent as her fingers toyed with the fabric of the brunette's dress. A distraction from the lump building in her throat. "Is that enough?"

Lena inhaled, sharp. The words mirrored a question that had been rattling around her head for months, one she had been too afraid to ask. "I'd like to believe it is...I've been so fucking miserable with him."

"But?" Kara pulled back to look the other woman in the eye. Searching. Hoping.

"You _know_ how she is, Kara." The words dripped with pent up stress and desperation.

"I know." A gentle, comforting squeeze to her hip. "Maybe Cat...?" The words _can get you a job_ hung in the air, met only by an eyebrow that said I am not asking that woman for help. Kara chuckled. "She's not _that_ bad. But, uh...were you planning on staying here? Sleeping here, I mean."

Blush tinted pale cheeks at the question as Lena realized her misstep. "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I can..." she trailed off, motioning toward the door.

"No!" It was Kara's turn to blush at her outburst, biting both lips between her teeth like a stopgap. The brunette eyed her with something akin to relief - or at least that's what Kara hoped it was as she continued, though not altogether smoothly. "I just, I mean, do you want to?"

"Yeah." A soft smile. "That sounds nice."

"Well, then, it's a date, Ms. Luthor," the blonde chimed optimistically as she hopped down from the table. At the other woman's half-smile, she added softly, "We'll figure it out, okay?"

As they padded toward the bedroom, it seemed utterly normal. Everything in the apartment was as Lena remembered it. Same bright interior, same impossibly comfortable couch. A new canvas on the easel, maybe, but it was otherwise identical down to the photo from their day at the beach last summer that sat framed on the bookshelf.

Kara made a beeline for the closet as they entered the room, head burrowed in a wall of fabric. When a tanned arm flung blindly back in her direction to pass over a t-shirt and teal plastic hanger, Lena couldn't help but notice the blonde's dress resting in a heap on the floor, tossed there hours earlier. It was so typically Kara; always worried about everyone but herself.

"Your stuff's still in the bathroom, just under the sink."

"Thanks," Lena responded absentmindedly as she slid out of her dress, hooking it onto the hanger to pass back to the blonde. The t-shirt slipped easily over her head as she ignored the pang in her heart at the thought of Kara removing even the slightest trace of her from the apartment. "D'you want this?" She asked, padding over to pick up the dress balled on the floor.

Turning her head, Kara grimaced. "I was tired."

"You know," Lena teased, tossing the fabric which was caught with ease, "eventually you should figure out how to use an iron." The blonde's brief attempt at protest was cut off with a smirk. "Wrinkle release is not the same thing, Kara."

"I don't like you," she huffed.

Lena smiled wide in response. It was a conversation they'd had before. It was one she wanted to have again.

Sleep came easy that night. Both women had all but forgotten the easy calm that washed over them as their bodies entwined, so accustomed to the tension that had flourished in their time apart. Lena certainly wasn't above a glass of wine or a shot tipped into a hot cup of tea before bed if it meant a chance at restful sleep. But this? This was better than anything she could possibly fabricate on her own. Kara's hand slid comfortably under the borrowed t-shirt to rest against her stomach, placing a soft kiss on her neck as they drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

When Kara woke in the morning it was to Lena's hand running softly across her back and a cup of coffee on the bedside table as she mouthed _sorry _before walking to the living room with a "You'll have to email me the reports."

Kara stirred, sipping gently at her coffee and checking notifications on her phone while Lena completed her call. She decided to put Alex out of her misery and shot off a brief text to her sister before pursuing her CatCo email account. There was a message from Cat requesting a final copy of the Luthor Gala story by close-of-business, which she knew really meant as-soon-as-inhumanly-possible. _Note to self: actually ask Lena for a quote. _With a sigh, she dragged herself out of bed. It was barely eight o'clock but the 5:08am time stamp on the message meant it was certainly time to head to work.

As Lena's call came to a close, Kara stepped into the kitchen. In addition to the coffee, it appeared that Lena had managed to scrape together a sizable portion of scrambled eggs. The hungry blonde pulled the nearest dish from the drying rack and made quick work of spooning mounds of the fluffy eggs into her bowl. Still standing at the counter, she began to shovel the food into her mouth with little care for the luxury of a seat at the table. Lena soon made herself known as her arms wrapped around the reporter's waist.

"Good morning," she greeted with a soft kiss to the nape of Kara's neck.

"G'mor," was Kara's muffled response through a mouthful of egg.

"That was my mother. I have to meet with a potential acquisition on the Westside in an _hour_."

Kara groaned, "It's gonna take you an hour to _get _there."

"I know. I'm gonna have to borrow some clothes."

Kara leaned back, placing a kiss on the woman's cheek. "Take whatever you need."

—

When Lena arrived at the small - but predictably overpriced - cafe, she was graciously only twenty minutes late. This was, of course, due to the two dozen prayers she sent to various deities she did not worship and to those she did: the traffic gods. The brunette's borrowed heels clicked on the concrete as she smoothed down the car-worn wrinkles in Kara's brightly patterned dress, eventually finding Samantha Arias seated at a small table on the sunlit patio where she sipped a near-empty iced coffee.

"Ms. Arias, my apologies. I hope you didn't wait long. I'm Lena Luthor, Director of Research and Development at Luthor Corp," she said, extending a firm handshake in greeting.

"It's not a problem, Ms. Luthor. Please, sit, and Sam is fine," the woman assuaged with a smile.

On the drive over, Lena had attempted to recall everything she knew about Samantha Arias and Aerial Ltd. Kara read Wikipedia highlights and company website bios to her while she showered, but still, she felt utterly unprepared. _Leave it to Lillian to throw me to the wolves. _

"Tell me about Aerial Ltd," Lena requested as she sat.

"Well, it actually started in my dorm room. I studied aerospace engineering and would build things in my spare time. Usually nothing _really_ worked, you know."

Lena laughed, nodding. After many, many hours in the R&D lab, she was quite familiar.

"Well, one day, it did," she smirked.

"And you're willing to give that up to Luthor Corp?"

The waiter returned to the table as the CEO jumped happily into an explanation of her latest project, one she was certain was a perfect fit for the company. "Can I get anything for you, miss?"

"Black coffee, please...and have you eaten, Sam?"

The other woman nodded briefly into her cup. "My wife made breakfast."

Lena couldn't help but feel a stab at the casual way her companion let those words slip out. She could help but think of Kara; wonder if somewhere across town she was having a similar conversation. Was she lying through her teeth for Lena's benefit?

"Just the coffee then." She was surprised at how level her voice was, though the words seemed to sputter out of her brain. The waiter was already gone when she remembered to say "thanks" too distracted by the universe collapsing where she sat. Her skin was burning against Kara's clothes. She was certain that the woman across from her would just _know_...that suddenly a garish neon sign had been lit above her head - _Lena Luthor! Lesbian!_ \- and everyone around them knew. Surely, no one within one hundred miles hadn't heard Sam Arias announce for the waiter and the world that her _wife_ made breakfast. Her mother would be here within seconds. Did her mother already know?

_I have to leave. I have to leave. I have to leave._

_No. Be professional. You are a Luthor._

"So, my latest drone has immense modifiability. It can be used to disperse medical supplies, food, blankets during a disaster, or it could be mass marketed as a camera. It _could_ be weaponized, but I'd prefer my designs not be. And it's small enough that it's mostly undetectable but it can still hold up to 200 pounds. I _have_ been working on cloaking, but that's a whole 'nother conversation."

It's perfect. Lena knows it's perfect. But she also knows she can't subject this woman and her family to the life she's been forced to lead.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Arias, but we can't take on Aerial right now. Jack Spheer is a friend of mine, he may be interested in your designs, but that's the best I can do."

For a moment, the CEO eyed her like she was going to ask questions Lena couldn't give answers to. Instead, she took Lena's business card, upon which Jack's email was hastily scribbled, and simply said, "Thanks, I appreciate it," before fishing her own card out of her jacket pocket. "Lillian knows how to get in touch with me, but feel free to reach out."

Did every lesbian in the city know she was gay?


End file.
